


Brand My Soul

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (it does turn sexual though), Aftercare, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Branding, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, POV Dean Winchester, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27934621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Dean has a request for Castiel, to have him memorialize his handprint on Dean's body.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87





	Brand My Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Handprint](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27934501) by [Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61). 



> I'm a fiend. I saw the prompt "handprint" for day 7 of #SPNDBCC and I wrote two stories. This one I might actually like more than the other one. Sorry, kink wins.

Dean was nervous with what he was going to request, but Castiel was back, and the world had been saved, and yet, he still couldn’t breathe, couldn’t sleep at night, so he had to do it. Maybe this one thing would ground him, would tell him that, yes, all was well. Still, when he went to Cas, he just kept his hands buried in his pockets, and he kept his arms down, not wanting to show the angel that he was surely sweating.

“Hey, Cas,” he began, voice questioning.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Can you—?” He swallowed roughly, a lump in his throat. His heart fluttered like a caged bird. “Can you do something for me?”

Immediately, Castiel was closing his book, and was standing. He placed his hands firmly on Dean’s hips, pulling him into him till the cores of their bodies were flush against each other.

“Anything,” he answered.

“I, uh…” Dean cleared his throat. He felt his face going red, but it wasn’t just from embarrassment. It was from the realization that what he was asking was way over-the-top, that it was even dangerous. But he needed dangerous, needed what Castiel could give to him. “When you pulled me out of Hell,” he began anew, “you left a brand on me — your handprint. And then after… after the Empty, there it was again. Your... handprint. So I…” Dean cleared his throat, and looked down, unable to meet Castiel’s intense gaze. “I want your handprint on me again.”

“As a brand?” Castiel asked.

Dean could barely breathe, couldn’t swallow because his mouth was so dry, and he nodded. Castiel gripped his chin, and brought his face up so Dean had no choice but to look at him.

“It’ll hurt,” he informed him.

“Y-yeah, I know.”

“And you really want me to do this for you?”

Dean licked his lips, breath escaping from his mouth before rushing back in in an ecstatic gasp.

“Yes,” he murmured, voice low and gruff.

“Then of course I’ll do it, Dean. Come with me.”

Castiel put a hand to the small of Dean’s back, and started herding him away from the library, deeper into the bunker. Eventually, they ended up at the infirmary, and Castiel instructed Dean to take his shirt off.

Dean’s did so and then took a seat at the edge of one of the beds. Castiel took off his coat, and suit jacket, and began to roll up the sleeves on his button-up shirt. Dean filled with heat as he watched his motions, as he watched those strong forearms be revealed, as strong hands pulled clothes off. All the while, Castiel observed Dean, head up so he was looking down upon him, one eyebrow raised.

“I can heal you if you don’t like it,” Castiel told him.

“Huh, you didn’t offer that when you carved sigils into my ribs.”

Castiel’s serious demeanor cracked, cheeks turning a little pink. He approached. “I’m sorry about that.”

To Dean’s utmost surprise, Castiel started taking his belt off. He didn’t object though. He was down for anything that Cas wanted to do at the moment. But then, his angel was forcing his mouth open, and putting the belt between his teeth for him to bite down on. That was actually way hotter than what Dean had thought was going to happen.

“Now hold onto me,” Castiel instructed.

Dean, half-hard with arousal now thanks to Castiel taking charge, and the anticipation of the pain that would soon come, did as he’d ordered. His hands gripped at Castiel’s waist, and he breathed in and out, chest heaving, breaths sharp.

Castiel put his hand on Dean’s left shoulder. His eyes began to glow blue.

The pain that followed had Dean lost in a world of burning fire, and golden light. Castiel’s hand felt like it was going _into_ him. Dean still held on, desperate for something to ground him, for the touch and feel of another person to comfort him through this.

It was done in a matter of seconds that had felt like an eternity. Castiel removed the belt from Dean’s mouth. Dean was shaking, and he moaned, tears blurring his vision. He leaned his head into Cas’ abdomen.

His angel’s hands were soon in his hair, and Dean gasped out a sob.

“You were so good, Dean,” Castiel told him. “It’s alright. You did great.”

Dean just groaned against Castiel, his shoulder screaming at him. But it did so in the shape of Castiel’s hand. And he couldn’t breathe, and his jeans felt too tight, but all he wanted to do was be held.

“I’m here,” Castiel went on, voice soft, even with the aroused growl in it. “I’ll take care of you. You’re alright.”

“Mm-hmm,” Dean all but whimpered, nodding against Castiel’s abdomen.

Then Castiel got on his knees, and pulled Dean to the edge of the bed. He started undoing his belt and the button and zipper on his jeans. Eyes hot with some odd, inhuman lust that went beyond Dean’s comprehension, Castiel palmed at his thighs, and then gripped him through his clothes.

“Let’s start here, shall we?”

In minutes, Dean was screaming, head tilted back, as he came deep in Castiel’s throat, his shoulder burning with his angel’s handprint.


End file.
